Warning: This article is marked as mature. "Mature" means "blood and gore" might happen in this article. Thank you.
Big Macintosh surveyed the many apple trees that made up Sweet Apple Acres. It was nearly apple-buck season once again, and it looked as though they would be having a bumper harvest this year. He nodded, satisfied. His sister Applejack walked up beside him.
“Whoo, boy howdy! I sure am glad you ain’t injured this time, Big Macintosh!” she said. “Why, there’s even more apples on them trees than last year!”
“Eeyup!” Big Macintosh replied, in his characteristic manner. “Them’s a lotta apples.”
Applejack was silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of the slight breeze against her blonde mane.
“Say, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Apple Bloom anywhere, have ya? I been looking for her all day, and she ain’t nowhere to be found.”
Big Macintosh shook his head. “Sorry sis, can’t say I have.”
“Darn! That silly filly’s probably gone off somewhere with her friends. I just hope she ain’t getting herself into any mischief, or else there’ll be hay to pay!”
“Don’t you go worryin’ yourself, Applejack,” he replied, “I’m sure she’s perfectly fine. But anyway, I need to go back to the barn. I gotta go and press some apples for some of my home-brewed apple cider. I hoof-picked a few apples earlier specially, all nice and plump and ripe, and they ain’t gonna press themselves.”
Applejack laughed. “You sure do love your cider, don’t ya! Just make sure Apple Bloom don’t get her hooves on it again, we all know what happened last time!”
Big Macintosh chuckled along with his sister. “Eeyup!”
The large red pony trotted back to the barn, and gently closed the door. He opened a trap-door with his mouth and went down the steps into an old disused apple cellar. Usually it was just filled with junk; scrap metal, old worn out ploughs, old rope and various other bits and bobs that had outlived their usefulness. Big Macintosh often came down here when he wanted to get away from the world, to withdraw for a little while for some peace and quiet.
Today was different, however. The old rope, at least, had found a new use, because in cellar space were Apple Bloom and her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, bound and gagged, propped up against the wall. Three pairs of scared, round eyes looked up at Big Macintosh as he approached.
Now then, ya three fillies,” he said, as placid as ever. “Y’all need to learn a lesson. You need to learn not to mess around with Big Macintosh. All I want is some peace and quiet,” he said, looking directly at Apple Bloom. The little red haired filly cowered under his gaze. “All I want is a quiet life, without all you Cutie Mark Crusaders runnin’ round the place, making with the noise. When I’m finished with y’all, there gonna be no noise from you ever again.”
As Big Macintosh approached, Scootaloo flapped her wings, struggling to get off the ground. Big Macintosh laughed, and grabbed one of her wings. He twisted, at first slow, watching the pain visibly grow in her eyes, but then tore hard, smiling slightly when he heard the snap and the muffled whimper that came from Scootaloo. He then threw her to the ground.
“Your wings are useless, ya silly filly,” he said pleasantly. He then went to a toolbox and took out a rusty knife with a jagged blade and dropped it in front of the three fillies. “I’m gonna take off those gags now,” he said. “The first one of you to scream gets their tongues cut out.”
He took off Sweetie Belle’s gag first. She looked up at him with terror, but managed to stay quiet. Next was Scootaloo. She let out a strangled whine and was breathing heavily, still in horrendous pain from her broken wing, but managed to resist the temptation. Finally, he removed the gag from his sister Apple Bloom. She stared at him with her large round eyes, filled with fear and incomprehension. This was Big Macintosh after all, her big brother and the gentlest of souls. Wasn’t he? Surely this was just a horrible joke? But she had seen what he had done to Scootaloo’s wing, and it was definitely no joke. She took a deep breath.
Big Macintosh shoved his hoof in Apple Bloom’s mouth, silencing her scream. He sighed and shook his head. “I tole you not to scream, Apple Bloom. You should listen to your big brother.”
“I’ll…I’ll scream, and scream again, an’ Applejack will hear and, and…” Apple Bloom said, falteringly.
“Ya know, I kinda hope you do. After all, I still ain’t forgiven Applejack for that injury she gave me last apple-buck season. If you want Applejack to join y’all down here, scream away. I, for one, would welcome her company. But now, to business.”
Big Macintosh picked up the knife, and loomed over the cowering Apple Bloom. He pinned her down with a powerful hoof, and stuck the knife into Apple Bloom’s mouth. Sweetie Belle vomited at the sight, the thick yellow chunks and acidic-smelling liquid spattering heavily on the floor. Scootaloo managed not to be sick, but rather gasped and sobbed and choked with panic. Big Macintosh forced open Apple Bloom’s mouth and with some effort cut out her tongue. Apple Bloom tried to scream but her mouth was too full of blood, so it was more of a muted gurgle. After a short while she collapsed, tears streaming from her eyes, falling unconscious from the shock and the pain. Big Macintosh then took the tongue and rolled it in the puddle of putrid vomit on the floor. He smiled at Scootaloo.
Scootaloo shook her head vigorously and cast him a defiant glare. “If Rainbow Dash was here she would kick the crap out of you, you…you maniac!”
Big Macintosh shrugged. “Well, she ain’t. An’ anyway, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Rainbow Dash ain’t as tough as she likes to make out.” He shoved the vomit-covered tongue into Scootaloo’s mouth, and used his hoof to clamp her mouth shut. “Don’t you go tryin’ to spit it out now,” he said calmly, with a little laugh and the filly struggled and squirmed. “Din’t your mother ever tell you how important it is to chew your food?”
Scootaloo closed her eyes and flapped her one good wing desperately, eventually swallowing Apple Bloom’s tongue. Big Macintosh, still holding the writhing Scootaloo down with his strong hooves, then mounted the orange filly and slid his penis into her tight virgin pussy, raping her for several minutes while Sweetie Belle watched, trembling with revulsion. Apple Bloom was still out cold, blood pouring.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders rape victims,” Big Macintosh said with tender mockery as he fucked Scootaloo, followed by a gentle chuckle. “Guess y’all found your purpose in life now; your special talent is gettin’ raped. Eeyup.”
Eventually he withdrew from Scootaloo, and gripped her head tight and repeatedly punched her hard with a hoof in the face, causing her nose to shatter and spurt with blood. He scooped up some of the blood and some of Sweetie Belle’s vomit with his tongue and held it in his mouth, so that it mixed with his saliva, and then brought his mouth close to Scootaloo’s and spat the rank mixture into her mouth. He clamped his hoof over her mouth and held her nose until she gagged and eventually had no choice but to swallow.
As Scootaloo retched and spat and cried, he turned to Sweetie Belle. He grabbed her easily, as she was too shocked and traumatised to respond, and with apparent amusement he rammed her horn up Scootaloo’s ass. The horn was too big and hard, so the skin around Scootaloo’s ass ripped and blood and fecal matter first trickled and then poured profusely down onto Sweetie Belle’s face, as well as urine as Scootaloo pissed herself.
“You keep doin’ that, Sweetie Belle,” he said. The unicorn carried on pushing her horn up Scootaloo’s anus, slowly but surely. Her normally well groomed pink and purple mane was now stained a reddish-brown, glistening with the wetness of the piss and blood. “If ya stop, I’ll come over there and, uh, get creative. I may seem a bit dense, but I’m actually quite a creative stallion, ya know,” Big Macintosh said, with a wink. “Eeyup!”
He went to Apple Bloom and penetrated his little sister’s unconscious body with his hard cock. While he violated her, and another knife, this one sharp and shiny, and sliced open her flank, causing her glistening intestines to flop out wetly onto the floor. He glanced over, and was pleased to see that Sweetie Belle was still using her horn to anally penetrate Scootaloo, and her face was now completely covered in blood and feces and urine.
He turned his attention back to Apple Bloom, and scooped up her crimson entrails and wrapped them around her neck, still fucking the filly, and with his front hooves he pulled and pulled until it was wrapped so tightly around Apple Bloom’s neck that it broke her windpipe. She was now surely dead, but Big Macintosh continued fucking her furiously until her body began to lose form and collapse into a quivering, amorphous mass of fur and blood and flesh. The perineum had fallen away, leaving a single red and raw gaping void. He carried on until he was fucking nothing but a single swollen and bloody orifice, and then discarded his baby sister’s carcass as though she were nothing more than a rotten apple core.
He then took the knife, and grabbed Sweetie Belle and tossed her aside. He forced himself into Scootaloo’s ruined anus, and then took the knife and cut from her ass in a sweeping motion up to her belly, and all her innards fell out. He then grabbed her head, twisted and tore it clean off, using his immense strength, and fucked it in the mouth and then tossed it aside. He then had sex with her headless body, both in the vagina and the ass until he got bored.
Sweetie Belle was the last remaining Cutie Mark Crusader. She was herself barely conscious, overcome with the nauseous stench of blood, shit and piss that covered her horn and her face. Big Macintosh pinned Sweetie Belle down with his hoof and plunged the knife into her green eye, and twisted, causing vitreous fluid to dribble out onto the handle. At that, Sweetie Belle let out a throaty whine and involuntarily emptied her bowels, and the aroma of fresh urine and feces filled the apple cellar once again. He withdrew the knife and did the same to the other eye, each time holding her tight and sticking his hoof into her mouth to silence her agonized screams. He licked the vitreous fluid that had leaked onto the knife, and then methodically began cutting and hacking at her front left hoof using the rusty knife. The knife was quite blunt, so it took a Herculean effort to get through the skin, bone and cartilage, but eventually the bone splintered and the leg came off. He did the same to her other legs, until all four were amputated and nothing remained but bloody stumps, with slimy white ligament and broken bone shards hanging out. At some point Sweetie Belle had passed out, the overwhelming pain too much for her to bear.
He then used the knife to gouge out her left eye and jammed his penis into her eye socket, penetrating repeatedly deep into her brain, enjoying how tight her skull felt around his hard shaft and how warm and squishy the brain-matter felt against the tip of his throbbing penis. As he did he twisted Sweetie Belle’s neck. After he had finished skull-fucking her, he cracked open her skull with a swift stamp of the hoof, and bent down and ate some of the exposed brain, taking care to spit out a few fragments of skull bone that had got mixed in as he chewed. It was warm and slimy and tough, and stuck to the back of his throat. He swallowed, and then raped Sweetie Belle in the ass until it tore open and his engorged penis was smeared with what little fecal matter remained in her rectum.
He took one of Sweetie Belle’s detached legs and shoved it inside her ass, and then fucked Apple Bloom and Scootaloo’s bodies the same way, forcing the amputated limb in, hoof-first, as far as it could go. He thought how strange it was that the still lumps of torn flesh that he was fucking with Sweetie Belle’s leg had been so vibrant and alive such a short time ago.
But now, all three were dead, and he finished by spurting his voluminous load into Apple Bloom’s destroyed backside. He watched with satisfaction as the semen and blood and shit mixed together, forming a foamy maroon pool. He bent down and greedily lapped up some of it with his tongue, pressing his tongue deep into her anal cavity so as not to miss any, letting some dribbling down his chin. It tasted foul of course, a rancid, tangy slime that burned his throat, but it felt so satisfying. He swallowed the filthy goo, and wiped his mouth with a hoof. It was done. Big Macintosh would finally get his peace and quiet.
“Big Macintosh, ya down there?”
It was Applejack. He looked at the disfigured corpses of the three fillies, all now barely recognizable as the oh-so-sweet Cutie Mark Crusaders, and realized he felt strangely unsatisfied. It had all been a bit too quick and easy. Now Applejack…that would be a challenge. She was Ponyville’s best athlete after all; she even had the Prize Pony of Ponyville trophy to prove it. And, of course, he still hadn’t forgiven her for that injury. He felt his penis stiffen once again in anticipation.
“Hey, Big Mac, I said are ya down there?” came Applejack’s lilting voice again, this time more insistent.
Big Macintosh replied serenely, “I sure am, sis. Hey, come down here a minute. I’ve got somethin’ to show you.”
“Sure thing! What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh boy, I sure do love surprises! Somethin’ real nice I’ll bet."
Something real nice? Big Macintosh looked at the mangled, mutilated remains of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and his lips curled into a thin smile.“Eeyup.”